Drug addiction
Pills!
I hate the fucking things.
Between the two of us, we get through around thirty a day.
Once a month I have to phone the chemist and place an order for our monthly supply. I could just call down but then it would mean I’d have to hang around for an hour or two while they sorted them. It’s easier [and warmer] to phone in the order and then collect later in the day.
Then twice a week I have to sit down, toss out a large bag of boxes and packets onto the table and carefully fill the pill boxes that have little compartments for each day and for morning and evening. This of course involves trying to prise little tablets out of their little bubble packs which seem to be made of stainless steel, with the designed intention of preventing aged fingers from accessing them. For some reason Herself’s box is slightly out of sync with mine so I do mine on a Friday and hers on a Sunday.
I used to take just a couple a day but after my “event” last year my quota has shot up and I now take more pills than Herself which pisses her off. She has lost the top spot as the family hypochondriac.
Occasionally I would forget to dole out the morning or evening supply which would result in interesting side effects during the day or else a very restless night. So now I have two alarms set on my mobile phone, morning and evening to remind me that it’s Pill Time.
This morning I dropped her pill box. The fucking pills went all over the place. Naturally it was nearly full as I had filled it yesterday. So I had to try and retrieve them all and then sort them all into the right compartments. Difficult as of course most of ’em are round and white with little to differentiate one from another. If I get them in the wrong boxes she’d probably sleep all day and then insist on a rave-up party at four in the morning.
There are times when I am tempted to just bring them all down to Skobieville to a sleazy pub and flog ’em.
I’d make a fortune.
You could sell anything in some places!
I remember a story of someone being arrested for selling tablets and being completely nonchalant about it – the pills were Bob Martin dog conditioning tablets!
There was a kid from a very lah-di-dah college not too far from here who was caught selling cannabis resin. Turns out he was making a good income from Oxo cubes.
Grandad,
I hear you. Twist and pick and twist and pick, then one last press and the pill shoots across the room like a bullet never to be seen again.
On the plus side, those pill poppin' compartmental boxes are a great help and mine is probably the most used gadget in the house…
One of my smallest pills comes in one of the largest bubble trays which I swear is made of an alloy of Titanium and Kevlar. I have to forcibly dig into it and then scrape around the debris for the wee tablet. I swear they do it deliberately.
Also called blister packs – I assume because they damage your fingers.
Another pet hate you might agree with is 'child proof' lids.
Most children can open these without problems, but my arthritic fingers object strongly.
I just leave the child proof lids to the Grandkids to open for me. Especially those buggers holding the multicoloured washing capsule things. They're a right bastard.
Try using a sharp blade to cut into the foil on the back of a blister pack. Makes getting the blighters out easier.
I'd be more likely to lose a finger……
I use that technique, you don't need to cut all round them, just a nick will usually weaken the foil enough for the pill then to press out.
Had a trip down memory lane and decided to see who amongst the blogs I used to read is still going.
Glad to see you're still at it! Hope all well in this odd times we live in.
Well hello Dario! Indeed – twelve years since you last dropped by [and shouldn't it be Fka Brian Damage?]. I don't know why I'm still around. One of the last remaining dinosaurs?